


Pen & Ink: Interlude

by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)



Series: Pen & Ink - yakuzaverse [2]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-05
Updated: 2007-06-05
Packaged: 2017-10-02 05:09:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysapadin/pseuds/Lys%20ap%20Adin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Niou and Yagyuu get up too after Yukimura lets them go off duty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pen & Ink: Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> Side story for Pen &amp; Ink. Originally comment-fic for **giving_ground**, since dissertations are a pain, and cookies make everything better. Especially when "cookies" means "D1 smut".

**Pen &amp; Ink**   
_Interlude_

"So that's him," Masaharu said, twisting back around in his seat after watching Tall-Dark-and-Stubborn-sensei follow their boss inside the house. "Think we're gonna have to find a place to hide the body?"

"I'm sure I don't know," his partner said, pulling around the house and maneuvering the care into to the garage. "You're the one who actually spoke to him."

"Why'd you think I asked?" Masaharu slid out of the car and stretched his arms, catching one wrist behind his head, and grinned at Hiroshi when he caught him looking.

"Let's worry about it later," Hiroshi said, coming around the car. He caught Masaharu and pinned him against the car. "We're off-duty right now," he purred. "There are better things to think about."

Masaharu snorted and wound his arms around Hiroshi's neck. "If I'm thinking, you're doing it wrong," he said, and hauled Hiroshi in for a kiss.

Hiroshi growled into his mouth; Masaharu growled back and nipped at his lip, pleased by how easily Hiroshi was playing along tonight. He slid his hands into Hiroshi's hair, messing up the neat style and grinning at the way Hiroshi's hair slid through his fingers, and then gasped as Hiroshi pushed closer, hands closing on Masaharu's hips and a leg sliding between his thighs. "Aw, fuck!"

"That could be arranged," Hiroshi said, and bit down on his throat.

Masaharu arched, shuddering, and ran his hands down Hiroshi's back, over the line of his jacket and the shoulder holster underneath, and closed them on Hiroshi's ass. "So arrange it, then," he said, and ground himself against Hiroshi's thigh.

Hiroshi hissed and sucked hard on Masaharu's throat; that was going to leave a mark. "Maybe later," he said, hands busy with Masaharu's belt.

Masaharu dug his fingers into Hiroshi's ass. "Yeah? Promise?" he said, and then moaned when Hiroshi's hand slid inside his pants to wrap around his cock and stroke hard.

Hiroshi snorted. "Yeah, sure," he said, and closed his teeth on Masaharu's earlobe.

Masaharu groaned and let his head fall back against the roof of the car, still hot from the sun. Hiroshi's grip was tight and demanding, calloused skin just the right kind of rough sliding over his cock. Masaharu let his hips rock into it, forgetting about everything but _hot_ and _tight_ and _yesyesnow!_

Hiroshi bit down on his throat again as Masaharu bucked against him, and the scrape of teeth on his throat just added to the pleasure wringing through him. "Fuck!" he groaned, when it finally let him go, and lolled against the car, body feeling loose and heavy. "_Fuck_, Hiroshi."

He felt Hiroshi's chuckled more than he heard it, a tremor moving through the body pressed tight against his. "Yes," Hiroshi murmured, against his ear, "I think so."

He was too relaxed to move just yet, so Hiroshi did the work for him, shoving his pants and his underwear down and turning him around. Masaharu let him, draping himself against the side of the car, humming a little at the heat of the metal against his thighs and the lean body at his back. "If you're not careful, we're going to have to wash the car," he noted, as the buckle of Hiroshi's belt jingled behind him.

"Mm." Hiroshi leaned against him, the point of his chin digging into Masaharu's shoulder. He ran his hands down and curled them around Masaharu's cock, fondling him until the heat stirred through him again. "It was due anyway."

Masaharu growled a little when Hiroshi took his hand away. "Hah, was it—ah!" Masaharu arched at the stroke of Hiroshi's fingers pressing into him, muscles burning around the stretch, and braced himself against the car. "_Fuck_!"

Hiroshi's fingers curled inside him. "Right now?" he asked, voice purring as lightning struck up Masaharu's spine.

"Oh yeah. Right _now_," he gasped, and groaned as Hiroshi took him at his word, cock sliding into him in one quick stroke that stole Masaharu's breath. "Hiroshi!"

Hiroshi's voice was hoarse in his ear. "Never say I don't give you what you want," he said, and wrapped his hand around Masaharu again.

Masaharu groaned at the hard grip of Hiroshi's hand and the harder movement of his hips, pounding into him. "I never say that," he gasped, ragged, and moaned at the next thrust, hard enough to lift him off his heels. "Hiroshi!"

Hiroshi groaned in answer, hand tightening around Masaharu's cock, thumb working over the head, and Masaharu let his partner's fierceness catch him up again, moving with Hiroshi until the heat wrung down on him again, shouting at the long shudders of it.

Hiroshi bit down on the side of his throat, the hard rhythm of his hips turning wild and then falling apart. The sound he made was muffled against Masaharu's shoulder, and he shivered against Masaharu's back as he came.

"Mmmmm." Masaharu reached a lazy hand back and ruffled Hiroshi's hair, fingers clumsy. "Damn."

Hiroshi's breath huffed across his cheek. "Yes."

They stayed like that for a bit, before Hiroshi pulled away and they busied themselves with cleaning up and straightening their clothes. "Ramen for dinner?" Masaharu asked, swiping at the mess on the car door with a rag that Hiroshi tossed at him.

"Sounds fine," Hiroshi said, combing his fingers through his hair.

"Good." Masaharu waited until Hiroshi was finished, before slinging an arm around him, a move that Hiroshi only tolerated in the best of circumstances. "I heard about a new place..."

Hiroshi didn't shrug his arm away, and Masaharu grinned as they walked out into the evening.

Life was good.

**end**


End file.
